


War Spoils

by Kennel_Boy



Category: Elfquest
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cannibalism, M/M, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Prompt Fill, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 20:34:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15614463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kennel_Boy/pseuds/Kennel_Boy
Summary: The elves lose the Battle for the Palace, and Skywise is captured during the retreat. He expects death, but, as the Go Backs warned, the trolls don't let anything go to waste.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _Prompt: Skywise is captured by trolls. Likes: character suffering, dark ending, bondage, troll culture. Dislikes: Major character death._
> 
>  
> 
> Pretty sure I pounced on this prompt because the Pinis doubling down on their benevolent slavery shtick with the High Ones pissed me off just that much. This is an ugly piece of work, so please mind the tags and proceed with caution.

The Go-Back’s final attack on King Guttlecraw’s lair failed. Two-Edge’s gift of armor was not enough to truly even the odds for the elves against the trolls. King Guttlecraw’s people knew their surroundings too well, especially so near to their home, and the troll defenses held firm as they pushed the combined army of Wolfriders and Go-Backs into a bloody retreat. 

The rout was so sudden that Skywise found himself trapped among a group of warriors cut off by the fighting. He could only watch in horror as the elves were forced to fall back to the tunnels or else be cut down where they stood.

Skywise sent desperately to Cutter, his soul’s brother, as the crowd of troll soldiers blocked him from sight.

**Tam! Don’t leave me here!**

**I promise we’ll come back for you, Fahr!** There was desperation in Cutter’s mental sending. Skywise could feel how close Cutter was to lunging into the fray and coming back for him, despite knowing it was certain death. **I promise!**

In sending, there was only truth. But the sincerity of Cutter’s words could not stand against the cold reality of the moment as the trolls closed in around Skywise and the few remaining elves. Troll blades crashed against Go Back armor. With their greater strength, the trolls knocked the warriors to the ground where swords and spears could jab through helms to maim and kill.

Skywise swallowed and took a step back, sword raised to defend as the trolls pressed in. His heart was beating in his throat. 

The truth was, he was going to die among strangers.

“Bring me the ones in wolfen armor!” Guttlecraw’s bellow rolled over the embattled throne room. “Do as you will with the rest of the filth!”

Terror gave Skywise new strength as he fought for his life alongside the Go-Backs, but it wasn’t enough. The trolls knocked their weapons aside, and battered them to the ground with clubs and hammers. Each blow rattled Skywise and bruised him to the bone. Strong hands gripped his arms and legs and hauled him off his feet and held overhead, only to throw him, half-conscious, at the foot of Guttlecraw’s throne.

“Hold him, you fools,” Guttlecraw snarled, “before we lose him the way we did the last one.”

Skywise looked up at the looming troll king just long enough to bare his teeth in a growl. “I’ll tell you nothing, you foam-sick waste of meat!”

Guttlegraw’s guard yanked Skywise to his feet, holding him upright. Skywise didn’t make a sound as they began to tear the armor from his body, wrenching him this way and that and leaving fresh bruises. He accepted that he was going to die. Everything around him seemed distant, as if he were already leaving his body: the pain of his injuries. The defiant cries of the captured Go Backs. The cruel trolls mocking about which elves to kill now, and which save for later. None of it could touch him...

One of the guards called out.

“Sire! We found another of the wolf-armors among the wounded!”

Skywise snapped back into the moment. His eyes went wide as the trolls pulled Scouter from one of the piles of wounded elves. They pried him as roughly from his armor as they had Skywise, but he barely moved. His head dangled limply. Blood matted his hair and streaked his snow-pale skin. But he was breathing.

Skywise couldn’t just abandon him to the trolls. He took a deep breath and focused on King Guttlecraw.

“What do you want?” Exhaustion made his voice rough and helped hide his fear. He was grateful for that.

Quick as a striking snake, Guttlecraw lashed out, gripping Skywise’s wrist and jerking him off his feet. He ignored Skywise’s cry of surprise and pain and let his toes dangle just above the floor.

“I want your secrets, elf.” 

Guttlecraw’s dark, piercing eyes seemed to drill into Skywise’s own. Skywise remembered the sight of King Greymung in the troll tunnels as the Holt burned down behind them, the way the quivering mound of his belly had draped over his belt as he sat on his throne. There was none of that softness in Guttlecraw, no fat come from easy living. His bare arms were corded with thick muscle. Even beneath the heavy fur robe, it was easy to see the power lurking in his frame. Whatever it meant to be king here in the Frozen Mountains, it was clear Guttlecraw enforced it with brutal strength of arm as well as a leader’s word.

“Your warriors invaded my tunnels.” Guttlecraw tightened his hold until his hooked nails pierced Skywise’s skin. “I will know why you wolfish ones came here. I will know where the elves brought you here flew back to. And I will know why the Go-Backs pushed this attack for your wretched Palace now, even if I have to reach down your throat and tear the words out of you one by one.” 

He threw Skywise to the stone of the floor, then turned his attention to Scouter. Scouter shifted weakly in the hold of the guards, but seemed dazed and just barely aware of his surroundings. Even when Guttlecraw wrapped one hand around his throat and lifted him, he barely struggled.

“Huh.” Guttlecraw dropped him in disgust. “He’s dying or addled. Not worth keeping alive.”

“No!” Skywise’s mind was racing. “Let him live and you’ll get your answers. I’ll tell you everything. It’ll be faster for you. Easier.”

Guttlecraw chuckled, a low, ugly rumble from deep in his chest. “Extracting the answers is enjoyment of its own sort, elf. Don’t think you have anything to bargain with.” Despite his words, he looked back at Scouter, thoughtful. “Guards,” he barked. “Take that one to the healers. See if there’s anything they can salvage.”

‘Thank the High Ones’, Skywise thought. He didn’t think he could have faced Clearbrook if he hadn’t at least tried to save her son’s life. But his relief only lasted as long as it took for the guards on either side of him to grip his arms and lift him off his feet again. 

“And take that one to a cell,” Guttlecraw said. “I won’t be bothered with him until dinner.” The troll king smiled, showing teeth that were larger and sharper than even a Wolfrider’s. “He can be our guest of honor.”

* * *

Troll guards hauled Skywise down a maze of tunnels, then stripped him naked and left him to wait. The troll tunnels were warmer than the frozen mountains above, but they were still frigid, bare stone, and he was shivering before long. 

He tried sending to Scouter, but received only a murky burble of thoughts in return. He was alive, but not clear-headed. Maybe unconscious. 

He tried sending to Cutter, hoping against hope that his soul brother was close enough to catch his thoughts, perhaps even mounting a rescue. Only silence. He was too far away. But he would come, Skywise told himself. He’d promised to come back for him.

For now, he was completely alone. 

He tried to think through the cold sinking into his bones. Guttlegraw hadn’t had him killed. Whatever secrets he thought Skywise knew, he valued them enough to keep him alive. He knew the trolls would be cruel. He knew that he would suffer. But if he was clever and played for time, he just might have enough leeway to survive whatever torments Guttlecraw had planned until rescue came. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was some small hope to hold on to.

The door scraped open. Skywise scrambled to his feet as the guards entered, but he wasn’t foolish enough to attack them bare-handed. They told him nothing, asked him nothing, only unfolded a large sack and popped it over his head. The guard scooped Skywise off his feet and swung the sack over his shoulder before the elf could do more than yelp his surprise. 

Skywise frowned as he struggled to get himself right-side-up again. Whatever he’d expected, being bagged like a summer mushroom had not been it.

His heart began to race as he realized why that was. The guards didn’t want him to know the way back from wherever they were taking him. Every step they took brought him further away from any path he knew back to the surface. Even if he managed to escape, he wouldn’t know where to run. He swallowed his fear and tried to use his other senses to mark the path, but the proximity of the trolls interfered with his smell and hearing. Every few paces, one of the guards jabbed or smacked the bag, keeping him disoriented. Their rough laughter echoed in the tunnels as Skywise struggled.

‘Whatever Guttlecraw has in mind, he thinks I’ll be strong enough to try to escape.’ His wan little hope grew slightly stronger. Maybe he could find a way to get away on his own instead of waiting for rescue.

Finally, the guards stopped and upended the sack, dumping him onto the stone. Skywise stared, uncomprehending at what sat before him. The room around him was bathed in the orange glow of flaming oil lamps. Guttlecraw sat at the head of a long table made of black stone. A dozen troll women, draped in warm furs and golden jewelry, sat six to each side of the table. From his vantage point on the floor, Skywise could see the table legs were carved into the shape of trolls, standing tall and bearing the weight of mountain stone. 

The guards grabbed his arms and jerked him to his feet roughly enough that he cried out. A ripple of laughter rose around them as the guard half-dragged him toward Guttlecraw. There was a stone pedestal beside his chair. The guards lifted Skywise and forced him to kneel on the round of stone. Leg irons on short chains were affixed to the rear of the pedestal; the guards clamped them around Skywise’s ankles and bound his arms behind his back. Skywise found himself on display, exposed. The eyes of every troll were on him - curious, mocking, gloating, angry. 

He plucked up his courage and turned to look Guttlecraw in the eyes. 

“What do you want with me?”

“I told you already, elf: you’re the guest of honor at this meal. You’ll eat with me and my wives.”

Skywise wasn’t a fool. The smile and false hospitality in Guttlecraw’s words were no less a threat than a drawn sword. And he remembered what Kahvi had said about how trolls ate: they wasted nothing, not even the bodies of the dead.

‘He wants you alive,’ Skywise reminded himself… then gasped as Guttlecraw grabbed his hair and wrenched his head up.

“You would not get near my women if you were any kind of threat, elf,” he said, dragging Skywise forward, fingers cruelly twisted in his silver locks. “You see here, my lovelies?” A rough note of tenderness, the pride of possession, entered Guttlecraw’s voice as he spoke to the women. “Things will never be as they once were. The power of our oppressors was broken centuries ago, shattered by the hands of our bold ancestors. Their reign is dead.”

Skywise’s head swam with confusion and pain. None of this made sense!

“And what is left of the tall ones? A debased, swarming remnant.” He yanked Skywise’s hair again, bending him back to expose his neck. “The Go-Backs went seeking allies beyond the Frozen Mountains: these pale, sharp-toothed creatures and elves that flew like birds.”

The troll women murmured among themselves, eyes wide with surprise.

“But our brave warriors turned back their twig-limbed fliers with arrows and lances. And these…” Another rough jerk drew a pained cry from Skywise’s lips; Guttlecraw held him up by the hair, his knees were no longer touching the pedestal. “...these pale, soft-skinned beasts? They were driven away with their Go-Back allies, dead, or captured.” He let Skywise drop back to the pedestal. “You and your sons will sleep safe tonight. And you will feast well, in celebration of our freedom.”

With those last words, troll servants entered the room, bearing deep bowls of fungus and tubers, and steaming cauldrons. Then three enormous platters, set in the middle of the table with pride.

The face of a Go-Back stared out from every platter, their eyes grey and runny in the dark, charred flesh of their faces, their roasted bodies twisted, bound, and blackened. Skywise looked away, gasping as he tried to keep his churning stomach under control. Hot, desperate tears gathered in his eyes even as he tried to regain his composure. To one used to the emotional closeness and intimacy of a Wolfrider tribe, the Go Backs had seemed harsh and cold-blooded, but none of them had deserved so cruel a death as this.

Skywise looked away as the servants began carving meat and ladling stew for the seated trolls. A heavy blow between his shoulder blades made his eyes fly open again, and left him bent over a steaming plate of roasted elf flesh. He tried to straighten up, only to be stopped by Guttlecraw’s heavy hand on the back of his neck.

“Eat, elf.” There was threat in Guttlecraw’s smile. “The guest of honor should have his fill, after all.” 

Skywise looked down at the metal plate, stomach churning. There was a chance that the information Guttlecraw wanted was valuable enough that he might not kill Skywise if he defied him. But then he remembered how simply being embarrassed before his subjects had lead Greymung to try killing all the Wolfriders by stranding them in the Burning Waste. To think that Guttlecraw would do any less was foolishness. 

He didn’t want to die.

Skywise lowered his head and steeled himself as he took the first bite. The slither of fat over his tongue made his stomach twist, but there was nothing there to vomit up.

‘You’re Timmorn’s blood,’ he told himself. ‘You’re kindred to wolves. When an elf dies, he is just meat, and the wolf pack takes them.’ That helped him swallow the first bite. And then the second. He tried not to breathe, not to look at anything. He would just think of it as meat, not elf.

He choked down the plate, somehow. He got one breath before Guttlecraw lowered his head to whisper in his ear.

“Very good elf. But never forget, there’s no difference here between them and you.”

Before Skywise could ask what he meant, Guttlecraw bit the tip of his ear. Skywise reflexively tried to pull away as the pain lanced through him. Guttlecraw held him in place and jerked his head back, tearing the tip of his ear loose. He looked Skywise in the eyes, chewed once, and swallowed the scrap of flesh.

“You’re as much meat as the Go-Back scum. The only difference is how long you can keep yourself breathing.”

Bright drops of blood oozed down Skywise’s cheek and pattered onto the the plate. He stared down at his own bloodied reflection in the greasy metal, trembling as his breath caught in his chest. 

‘You need to get here soon, Tam,’ he thought. ‘Or there won’t be much of me left to rescue.’


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Prompt: Skywise is captured by trolls. Likes: character suffering, dark ending, bondage, troll culture. Dislikes: Major character death._
> 
> Pretty sure I pounced on this prompt because the Pinis doubling down on their benevolent slavery shtick with the High Ones pissed me off just that much. This is an ugly piece of work, so please mind the tags and proceed with caution.

Guttlecraw kept the silver-haired elf on display for the entire victory banquet as war spoils , observing its every reaction. 

The wily troll king had ruled beneath the Frozen Mountains for more years than he could count. He had survived more would-be usurpers than there were hairs in his beard. There was very little in his life that was truly new, only different grades of the same stone. But in only a few short weeks, there had been too much that was entirely beyond his experience. New riddles from Two Edge. New elves with magic that echoed the oldest tales of how things had been when trolls had been held in bondage to a taller, more powerful breed of elf. All of these intruders had been driven away… or so it had seemed. But he needed to be certain. There was too much strange too quickly, and he needed to know the why of it. And he had reason to think some of those answers might be pulled from this new breed of elf.

There was more difference between the Go-Backs and these pale, wolfish elves than their coloring. They were fighters, so much as any elf could be, but somehow softer than the Go-Backs. Guttlecraw had tortured and killed dozens of Go-Backs with his own hands over the long years, maybe more. Reduced them to broken, pleading meat. And none of them had flinched and squirmed so early on as this new elf. None of them had ever begged mercy for another, beyond that of a swift death. That was something he could use in his questioning. 

He looked the shackled elf up and down. One of his wives, young and spirited Pyrope, had begun prodding the elf for the amusement of the others. It squirmed and yelped, but didn’t attack, even followed her commands when the chains allowed for it. A Go-Back would have gone for her throat a half dozen times already, no matter how often it was beaten down. But this one was a more timid, sensitive breed… or more canny. And Guttlecraw suspected that would be the key to breaking the elf without the risk of killing it. Or, at least, not before all useful knowledge had been pried from its mind.

* * *

Skywise’s trip from the dining hall was much the same as the one to it: stuffed into a sack and bumped and smacked until there was no hope of keeping his bearings. 

At the end of the trip, he was dumped into the arms of one of the guards and held by the neck while the others chained his arms behind his back and pushed him into a cage at the center of a large room. 

The guards left and Skywise squirmed onto his knees, trying to get a look around. The scent of the place told him right away that this was Guttlecraw’s den. His peaty, rock-fungus musk overwhelmed every other smell. Most of the remaining space in the room was taken up by a small area for bathing, braziers for warmth, statues of Guttlecraw, and a huge, awned bed. Blankets of shaggy fur covered most of the bed, and the posts holding up the awning looked like spears themselves. It reminded Skywise enough of a drop-trap that he had to suppress a shiver.

The situation was altogether strange. Guttlecraw bringing Skywise to a place where he himself was vulnerable made no sense, and that unanswered question by itself made him restless. The cage wasn’t helping. It was small and domed, barely large enough to lie down in. Worse, it was round and rooted into the stone, leaving him exposed on all sides without a even a corner to back into.

No doubt that was on purpose.

Skywise took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing mind and churning stomach. The most likely answer was that Guttlecraw was going to question himhere, in the privacy of his own chambers. He reminded himself that the troll king wanted him alive for the present... and tried to ignore how his torn, throbbing ear made him doubt even that small comfort. He didn’t think that Guttlecraw meant to literally eat him alive, but the uncomfortable notion lingered in his mind.

The door opened with the harsh scrape of stone on stone. Guttlecraw strode in with three guards only a step behind. Skywise smelled blood at once. Blood and… another elf.

His stomach dropped as the trolls surrounded his cage, bringing a stumbling, hand-tied Go-Back with them. The elf kept making unintelligible, broken noises, as if he’d been gagged, but somehow not muffled.

“Shut your mouth, pink-skin.” One of the guards threw the elf up against the bars of Skywise cage. It was only then that Skywise saw -- the Go-Back’s eyes were gouged out, leaving only the raw, empty sockets. His tongue was missing, his mouth a ragged pit of torn muscle and broken teeth.

Skywise yelled in horror and fell back, trying to get away. But there was nowhere to go. Nothing to do but watch as Guttlecraw disrobed and pinned the elf between his massive, muscled body and the cage. 

For a moment, Skywise didn’t understand. Wouldn’t let himself understand as the two struggled. Then the troll king thrust his hips forward and the Go-Back rose onto his toes with a choked scream. He kept screaming with each thrust, struggling helplessly as Guttlecraw’s cock plunged into his body.

“Stop…” Skywise whispered, trying to push back his disbelief. “Stop! Stop it, you sick waste of skin! Stop hurting him!” The whisper built into a yell. His screams mingled with the tortured Go-Back’s but accomplished just as little. And for all his anger and terror, Skywise couldn’t make himself move toward them, not even to stop a violation so horrific that he didn’t even have a name for it.

The guards laughed and banged their weapons on the cage, mocking the elves and cheering their king. Guttlecraw’s hands wrapped around the shrieking Go-Back’s neck. The elf’s wails of torment were squeezed off, trailing to a high, reedy whistle before gurgling away altogether. Guttlecraw grunted in completion. His hand clenched, wrenched the elf’s neck to one side. The pop of dislocating bone was very loud in Skywise’s ears. The Go-Back slumped and went silent, leaving only the snickering of the trolls.

Guttlecraw pulled free and stepped away, letting the Go-Back’s corpse slide down the bars. One of the guards dragged it away without a word from his king. Guttlecraw’s attention was all on Skywise. His eyes were bright with lust. Sweat glistened on his chest; the stain of blood gleamed darkly further down.

“Now that we’ve all celebrated,” he said, his attention all on Skywise. “It’s time to turn to the matter of our remaining war spoils.” 

Skywise’s heart tried to pound out of his chest as rough hands dragged him from the cage and threw him, struggling, onto Guttlecraw’s bed. It was time.

He curled up on his side, trying to remember what it was Guttlecraw knew about elves… Go-Backs, Gliders, and Wolfriders. He squeezed his eyes shut as the troll king, draped in only a simple robe now, sank into a chair beside the bed, still flanked by his guards. Skywise’s mind raced, yet he couldn’t think, and that terrified him almost as much as the prospect of any of the horrible deaths he’d seen. The only weapon he had now was being able to outsmart the king troll, but his mind was filled with the mutilated face and dying screams of the tortured Go-Back, his nose by the scent of blood and foul lust. Any shred of cleverness he might have held on to was drowned by wordless terror.

‘Go-Backs.’ Skywise tried desperately to organize his thoughts. To rally what he knew. ‘Guttlecraw knows about Go-Backs; they’ve been at war for turns and turns. He knows the Gliders flew off and abandoned us. He can tell the difference between a Wolfrider and a Go-Back.’

Guttlecraw might not know about Leetah. High Ones… he’d been so happy to have Leetah along when her powers had saved Cutter from bleeding out from a troll’s spear-thrust. Now he just wished she and the cubs were safe back at…

...Sorrow’s End. 

Skywise’s stomach twisted. Guttlecraw’s people had tunnels that stretched from the Frozen Mountains back to the troll kingdom beneath the old Holt. Could they tunnel all the way into Sorrow’s End if Guttlecraw decided the Sunfolk were a threat? If the trolls could push the Go-Backs into retreat, taking the Sunfolk would be like slaughtering newborn fawns. No matter what happened, he couldn’t mention the Sun Village in front of Guttlecraw any more than he had when he and Cutter had been captives of Picknose.

“Speak, elf.” Guttlecraw grabbed Skywise’s manacles and yanked, wrenching his arms to draw him up on his knees. His merciless gaze seemed to cut past Skywise’s flesh, right into his tumultuous mind. “Or do you need more persuasion?”

“No… I…” Skywise swallowed, trying to keep his thoughts on the moment, not on the agony twisting the eyeless Go-Back’s face. The wolf in him wanted to bite, to fight its way free or die clean, but that would have been deathly foolish. “What do you want to know?”

“Why the attack now?” Guttlecraw growled. He released the chains, leaving Skywise kneeling. “The Go-Backs have been squatting on the mountainside all this time and never thrown all their might behind an invasion. What changed?”

Skywise forced himself to breathe. “We had numbers,” he whispered. “Our two tribes combined. And magic… our Glider and our rock shaper. And the wolves. We thought we’d have the advantage of surprise.”

“Ha!” Guttlecraw struck Skywise with the back of his hand, flattening him against the bed. “Arrogance! To think you could defeat my people in our own home!” Again, he pulled Skywise up to face him. “How many of you were there? How much of a fighting force did you leave behind?”

“The Go-Backs didn’t want to leave their lodge and riding deer defenseless.” Skywise spoke slowly, buying time for his ringing head to clear. “They left enough warriors to make sure nothing backtracked through the tunnels.” It was a lie. Redlance and a handful of Go-Back warriors too injured to join the invasion were all that had been left behind to guard the lodge.

The troll king’s expression tightened, as if he’d bitten into something sour. Skywise almost asked a question, but stopped himself before he could give himself away. But still… he’d confirmed something unpleasant for Guttlecraw. Had he been thinking of a retaliatory attack against the Go-Backs and been stopped by Skywise’s lie? That would be something, at least…

“The flying elves.” Guttlecraw’s harsh words brought him back to the present. “What did you call them?”

“Gliders.” Emboldened, Skywise went on. “They’re not at the lodge, but you killed their chief. They’ll want revenge…”

Guttlecraw was smiling again, and it sent ice down Skywise’s spine. He knew in an instant that he had pushed too far. 

“My scouts have been watching ever since we speared that giant hawk out of the skies.” Guttlecraw rose to his feet; his smile showed every sharp, white tooth in his head. “Your Gliders haven’t shown their faces since, elf. If it’s revenge they want, they’re taking their time.”

Skywise started to scramble away, trying to push himself back while keeping his eye on Guttlecraw. The troll grabbed his ankle in a bruising grip and pulled him almost playfully toward the edge of the mattress.

“Now I’ll show you the penalty for lying.”

* * *

Guttlecraw’s anticipation was already building to fresh arousal as he stepped away and let his guards take over restraint of the elf. They flipped the elf face-down onto the bed. Each took hold of an ankle, stood to either side, and spread the elf’s legs as wide as they could without popping them out of their sockets. 

“No!” The elf thrashed like a fox in a leg-hold trap, but he could do nothing against the iron grip of two trolls. “No, no… please! Don’t do this! I don’t… I don’t want this! It’s wrong!”

It was such a pathetic protestation that Guttlecraw couldn’t help but laugh. He draped his robe over the chair, half-hard just from the elf’s cries. 

“Oh, I think you must want it very badly, wolf-elf. You saw what I did to the Go-Back, and still you baited me.” He approached the bed, standing between the elf’s thighs, which were spread so wide that the tight, pink pucker of his asshole could be glimpsed as he tried to pull away from the guards.

“DON’T! PLEASE!”

The guards spread the elf wider, laughing as it cried out again. Guttlecraw ran one hand idly over the elf’s smooth thigh, smiling as it trembled from the strain on its muscles. He’d never found these pink, scrawny creatures attractive for their own sake, but their suffering was a distinct pleasure. Torturing them was a joy. 

Guttlecraw chuckled and snared his fingers in the elf’s wild, silver hair. He pushed the it face-down into the mattress, but that barely muffled its shouts and didn’t stop it struggling at all. 

“Settle down!” Guttlecraw reached beneath and gripped the elf’s cock and balls, barely a handful together in his palm. He gave the soft bits a vicious squeeze. The elf let out a choked squeal, but went still, save for that delightful shuddering of stress and fear.

“Better.” He rested more weight on the back of the elf’s head, pressing its face deeper into the furs covering the bed, until Guttlecraw could hear it snorting and gasping as it tried to breathe. “I’ve told you already, elf - you’re just meat. You’re mine, as much as if you were hanging in my larder already. All you can do is help me decide if you die whole or in pieces.”

He thrust one finger into the elf’s dry passage, his cock throbbing with need when the violation was met with a clench of flesh and a high-pitched howl of pain that must have cost the elf what little air it had left. Guttlecraw pushed another finger in before the howl had fully died, listening with glee as the sound turned into a weak, smothered shriek.

“That’s right, elf. Each finger’s almost as thick as your sad little male part. How do you think it’ll feel when I spear you on my shaft, eh?”

The elf shuddered, but pinned as he was, fighting just to breathe, he couldn’t struggle any further. 

Guttlecraw smirked and nodded to the guards. They released the elf’s legs. Guttlecraw pulled out of the elf, then dragged him off the bed by his hair. The elf was limp and gasping, in no shape to fight back. Guttlecraw squeezed the hinges of the elf’s jaw ruthlessly, forcing his mouth open as wide as it would go, then plunged his blood-streaked cock down into the wet, sucking heat of the elf’s maw.

The elf gurgled as he strangled on the thick, hard shaft, but Guttlecraw had no fear. His own strength kept the elf’s jaws forced open. The grip on his hair kept his head still. He bared his teeth in pleasure as he thrust into the miserable little beast’s throat again and again. The slide of that slick, unwilling flesh around his cockhead was almost a secondary pleasure as he beheld the fear of his war-prize. Its unnaturally large, pale eyes bulged for want of air and rained tears born of fear. Its mouth was distorted by the girth of the cock plugging its airway, and it choked on protests as the thick shaft thrust even further in, pressing into the tight ring of its throat. 

The elf had to take all of it, to kneel and be conquered and be used. A helpless, pathetic remnant of what elves had once been, now just a tool in troll hands.

Guttlecraw reveled in the control, holding back his own orgasm as even the elf’s muffled protests faded to nothing, and rigid fear gave way to, slack, air-starved weakness. He huffed a laugh as the elf’s eyes finally started to roll back in its head; before it could faint completely, he plunged deep into its throat once more, allowing the pleasure building in his loins and sack to finally crest and spill over into the pleasure of climax. His grip tightened as he came, then he yanked the elf away by the hair and let it collapse to the floor.

“I won’t show you such mercy again,” Guttlecraw said. He used his foot to roll the coughing, gasping elf onto his back. “If you won’t be of use to me, I might as well have my fun and leave you to bleed out from the back.”

The elf curled up on its side, shaking. 

“Please…” it croaked.

Guttlecraw frowned and gave it a kick. “Get up!”

The elf only curled tighter around itself, quaking in fear. “No more. I can’t. I can’t…!” 

Guttlecraw frowned. He could push the interrogation. Bring out the knives and hot irons and see if that was more effective coercion. But if the elf’s mind was truly on the verge of retreat, then he’d lose any information carried therein by pushing it over the edge. 

He kicked the elf again, then turned to his guards. 

“Cage the elf. I’ll question it again later, once it’s had time to think on the virtues of obedience.”

* * *

Skywise sat in his tiny cage, aching from the roots of his hair to the soles of his feet.

Guttlecraw was asleep in his opulent bed. Though his every snore and turn made Skywise’s heart leap, he was, at least until the troll woke again, secure against harm. His legs were stretched out before him and tied to the metal bars on the opposite side of the cage. His arms were extended to either side and tied at each wrist. And no matter how he rocked or squirmed, he couldn’t have strike the heavy iron with his head. Even harming himself was nearly impossible.

Not that Skywise had plans to end his life… but, oh, High Ones, he could understand the urge now in ways he never had before. In truth, he was almost surprised to be alive. He hadn’t expected his pleading to amount to much once Guttlecraw had been done using him, but it had been all he could think to do. He couldn’t have kept his thoughts clear enough to fool a newborn cub after… after…

Skywise shuddered at the memory. He hadn’t known the pleasure of joining bodies could be twisted into something meant to debase, to reduce someone to nothing more than flesh to used. Now he had seen and experienced it, and it left him feeling filthy in ways that couldn’t be washed clean. All of his hopes of enduring until he was rescued seemed almost foolish now, and he had been in the hands of the trolls for only a day. This was different, even from the humiliation of being held in chains by Picknose. Guttlecraw would keep chipping away at him until he was happy to trade everything he knew for a clean death.

**Skywise?**

The sending was weak, but Skywise’s head snapped up at once.

**Scouter! Where are you?**

**With Old Maggoty in the slave area. She knows healing. It’s the only reason they’ve kept her alive.** Scouter’s fear stood out from his sending like a spark on a moonless night. **They killed every troll that rebelled against them. Even some of Greymung’s who didn’t, just to be sure. They’re worse than humans! How could they--**

**Don’t think on it.** Skywise took a moment to shore up his own thoughts. He couldn’t let Scouter know what had happened to him. Maybe he would learn on his own what fate awaited elves in this kingdom of misery and horror, but Skywise would protect him however he could. 

**What happened?** Desperation tinged the younger elf’s sending now. **Where are the others?**

**We lost the fight. No one’s answering my sending, but I think we’re the only ones who didn’t make it out.** Sywise told himself that the silence didn’t mean anything. The Go-Back lodge was far above them, probably out of range. **And Guttlecraw would be gloating if they’d been killed or captured.** 

**All right.** Relief. **What do we do?**

**You keep pretending like your head is cracked. If they know you can think straight, they’ll start trying to dig out how much you know about the Go-Backs and why we attacked.** Skywise took a deep breath to calm himself. **If you get any chance to slip away, do it. Get back into the tunnels and follow our scent to the surface.**

**No! I’m not leaving you behind!**

**I’m caged in Guttlecraw’s own den, Scouter.** Skywise swallowed hard as the hopelessness of his situation settled upon him again. **You get back to Dewshine and your mother if you can. When Cutter comes up with a plan, he’ll rescue me.**

But even as he sent, Skywise knew that it would be a matter of “if”, not “when”. And only if Skywise could keep give Guttlecraw reason to keep him breathing long enough to be saved. Which meant turning his thoughts away from the possibility of rescue. His best bet for survival was in finding a way to increase his value to his brutal captor. But at least Scouter might be safe, so long as Skywise could keep Guttlecraw’s interest entirely on him.

Or so he hoped.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Prompt: Skywise is captured by trolls. Likes: character suffering, dark ending, bondage, troll culture. Dislikes: Major character death._
> 
> Pretty sure I pounced on this prompt because the Pinis doubling down on their benevolent slavery shtick with the High Ones pissed me off just that much. This is an ugly piece of work, so please mind the tags and proceed with caution.

Skywise soon learned that the worst mistake he could have made was letting Guttlecraw know he was not too cowed to lie. Guttlecraw latched onto his attempted bluff about the Gliders and used it as premise for additional brutality. Everything Skywise told him was now suspect, leaving the troll king quick to mete out punishment for any lie, real or imagined.

First, Guttlecraw had wanted to know where the Wolfriders had come from. When Skywise did not answer immediately, Guttlecraw hauled him to his bathing pool, chains and all, and pushed his head into the frigid water, holding Skywise there until his chest burned for lack of air and black spots faded in and out of his vision. The troll king would yank him back into the air for two breaths, then push him down again, taking him to the brink of oblivion once more before bringing him up again. 

After the third time of being nearly drowned, fear drove Skywise to answer, giving as clear a description of the journey from Blue Mountain as he could manage while still half-senseless for want of air. Shame burned him with each word, but he knew that if he died, Guttlecraw would begin questioning Scouter. He held that thought in his mind as Guttlecraw questioned him on every lapse of detail, hammering away at his story until his head began to clear.

Then it was back to the pool. 

Over the course of a day, Skywise gave up almost everything he knew about the Gliders and Blue Mountain. Guilt occasionally stilled his tongue as he Aroree crept into his thoughts, but Guttlecraw was always there to loosen it again, until Skywise was dizzy, vomiting from drowning, and almost too far gone to speak, let alone consider his answers. The lone detail he managed to hold back was Leetah and cubs, never once mentioning them. 

Guttlecraw put lit braziers near Skywise’s cage that night, but they weren’t enough to keep him from shuddering with the memory of the suffocating cold, or springing awake and waiting fearfully still with every unexpected sound, convinced the interrogation was set to begin again.

The next morning, he was sick and weak from hunger, mistreatment, and lack of sleep. It didn’t stop Guttlecraw from having him dragged into his throne room and displayed, naked and chained atop the same pedestal that had been present during the troll king’s victory dinner. 

The room itself was a place of lesser horrors lit in uneven torchlight. Guttlecraw’s throne was draped with fresh wolf pelts, grey and white. The heads of the rebelling trolls had been speared on pikes and stood as warning to the remaining slaves of the cost of rebellion; Skywise found himself staring into the slack, ruined face of Picknose, whose head had been mounted across from the king’s throne.

The troll hunters and craftsmen who came to petition the king that day seemed hardly to notice the carnage or dismembered slaves, but stared at Skywise with fearful awe. Then guards would pinch his flesh or twist his limbs until he cried out, and that edge of fear would vanish, dissolving into a satisfied grin or even laughter. 

He didn’t understand. He didn’t understand why Guttlecraw’s sense of urgency had so quickly dimmed to the point that he would take time away from his questioning to display him as a trophy instead of wringing answers from him. He didn’t understand why the common trolls looked at him with fear, or why that fear dissipated with each abuse he suffered. He did know that, though asking questions while on display might get him an answer, he’d also land more pain and mockery if he gave Guttlecraw an excuse to freshly humiliate him before his subjects. So he bit back his curiosity, yelping or screaming for the pleasure of his audience with each new torment.

It was Guttlecraw who finally fed him that night. Skywise tried not to think too closely on what -- or who -- the cold chunks of meat making up his sparse meal had once been. He held his breath to dull his senses, and tried to concentrate only on filling his empty stomach.

“What are you?” Guttlecraw asked abruptly.

Skywise kept his gaze fixed on his meal. He remembered what Guttlecraw had told him: he was no different than the Go Backs that had been slaughtered for food. And that much was true, in a sense. Guttlecraw would devour him, starting with his will and ending with his flesh. But the troll was still hungrier for knowledge than he was for elf-meat. Even if Skywise didn’t know why that was, it was the only weapon he had.

“I don’t understand what you mean,” he whispered, his voice all but ruined from a day of screaming. “I’m an elf.” 

“You’re an elf, but there’s something in you and your kin different from the Go-Backs.” Guttlecraw watched him through the bars of the cage with the patient determination of a stalking hunter; it was no less a terrifying prospect than Guttlecraw in the depths of his cruelty. “You move differently from them. You think differently. You _feel_ in ways different than they do. No Go-Back has ever begged mercy for their kin.”

Skywise tried to think of why Guttlecraw would want this information above all else, but no answer came to him. He didn’t see how this could hurt his people, or what he could safely hold back, couldn’t think on what he might have already given away. Panic stole what little appetite he had, but he forced himself to swallow. There was nothing to do but answer and watch Guttlecraw’s responses carefully, and hope that the troll wanting to know what Skywise was rather than what he knew was knowledge important enough to keep him alive.

“I’m a Wolfrider,” he said, speaking slowly. It was not only his sore throat that left him considering his words carefully. If he had been asked the question before the humans had burned the Wolfriders out of their Holt, Skywise wasn’t sure he would have been able to answer it. Back then, there had been no difference between “elf” and “Wolfrider”, unless it was in some dreamberry tale of long ago High Ones and Firstcomers. Meeting the Sunfolk, the Gliders, and the Go-Backs had changed all of that, given them something different, but not other, to define themselves against. And now he needed to define what it was to be a Wolfrider in a way that betrayed as few elves as possible while satisfying a merciless enemy.

“We’ve always been forest-dwellers,” he went on, staring down at his plate. “Until the fire destroyed the trees and drove us to Blue Mountain. We hunt with the wolf-pack; our bows and their speed combined can bring down any stag in the woods.” His throat tightened with a rush of longing for those days, but he forced himself to keep speaking. “We lived peacefully, until the humans came…”

The crash of Guttlecraw’s spiked scepter against the bars of the cage sent Skywise scrambling as far away from the troll as he could manage.

“You’re telling me nothing,” the troll king snarled. 

“I’m telling you everything I can think of!” Skywise could hardly hear his own words over the pounding of his heart. 

“You could drop any elf or troll in the woods and they’d get by,” Guttlecraw sneered. “It’s soft living. And if you stick an elf on a deer or a wolf, it’s the same thing.”

“It isn’t!” Skywise protested. “The wolves…” The wolves were like brothers to the Wolfriders, but Skywise stopped himself before he could give that away. “The wolves a-aren’t like the Go-Backs and their stags! We don’t break them, we don’t saddle them. They let us ride willingly.”

“Dung.” Guttlecraw snarled the word. “No beast of the woods would just accept a rider clinging to its back. You’re lying to me, elf. And you know the penalty for lying.” The troll shifted, reaching for the cage door.

“I’m not!” Skywise curled his legs up against his chest, but there was nowhere to go. If Guttlecraw decided to lay hands him, he was helpless to escape the troll’s whims. “I’m not lying! The wolves carry us because we’re kin! T-Timmain! The first of the High Ones! She took a wolf’s shape to hunt for her people! She lived as a wolf, mated with one, and bore our first chief! I’m not lying! I’m not lying!”

Again and again he protested, nearly hysterical, not even realizing he’d been repeating himself until Guttlecraw’s rough laughter cut him off. Skywise cringed back against the bars, for troll laughter always heralded fresh pain and humiliation. But instead of dragging him from the cage to be tortured anew, Guttlecraw walked away, still laughing even as he prepared for bed and doused the torches.

Skywise sat in the darkness, unmoving, convinced that this was all a trick that would make his torment that much more amusing for the trolls when they came back for him. It wasn’t until Guttlecraw began to snore that he slowly uncurled. None of what just happened made any sense, unless Guttlecraw had been amused by his cowering.

The notion cause Skywise to blush with shame. Not even a full hand of days captive, and already he struggled and squealed before the trolls like a snared rabbit. The thoughts he’d had before of escaping or holding out for rescue seemed so foolish now. No wonder the Go-Backs held out no hope of taking back those captured by the trolls, only of avenging them. Guttlecraw’s people had spent years beyond counting practicing their cruelty. And what they had done to him so far was but a game compared to what he knew they could do. What he had _seen_ done to the Go-Back captives...

Skywise shuddered and pushed the thoughts away. No. He couldn’t think like that. Not when he was all that stood between Scouter and this very cage. He crawled over to the plate and began stuffing the remaining scraps of meat into mouth, forcing them down despite his clenched stomach. He had to endure another day. And the one after that. Until Cutter found a way to free them both.

* * *

**Skywise.**

There wasn’t an inch of Skywise’s body that didn’t hurt. Two days had passed. Guttlecraw hadn’t questioned him again, but he’d kept Skywise on display every minute of waking, parading the common trolls through for a viewing. The guards had left Skywise with fresh bruises from their manhandling, and his wrists and ankles were chafed bloody from where he’d struggled to avoid their blows. Despite his exhaustion, it had taken him ages to fall asleep once safely tied in his cage. He didn’t want to wake to a world of torment again, and his sleeping mind came around to Scouter’s sending reluctantly.

**What is it?**

**Old Maggoty thinks she get us to the surface.**

Skywise was suddenly wide awake. **All of us?**

**No.** Scouter’s shame filled his mind. **Just me and her. She says the patrols have been stretched thin since the war. We lost, but we killed more than half of Guttlecraw’s warriors. She says she can slip us out.**

**Can she be trusted?**

**I think so.** A pause. **Oddbit was Old Maggoty’s granddaughter, and he killed her because he thought she might rebel too. She might hate him as much as we do.**

Skywise doubted that, but kept it to himself. Scouter didn’t need to know how bad things were for him. **If you get caught, fight until they have to kill you. You don’t want to end up like Picknose and the others.** Or like that poor, nameless Go-Back, spending his last tortured moments pinned and broken on a troll’s shaft.

**I know. So does she.** Scouter went silent, but when he opened himself to Skywise again, he could feel the Scouter’s desperation. **Skywise, I’ll tell her we’re not leaving without you.**

**No.** He knew why Scouter had to offer; in his shoes, Skywise wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if he hadn’t. And now Skywise knew he couldn’t let Scouter lead any of their tribe into these tunnels. The idea of Cutter or Nightfall in troll hands… no. He couldn’t bear it. Even if they could get here in time to save him, any attempt at rescue was far too much of a risk. **You’ll just get caught. Get back to the sun, Scouter.** He caught his breath as fear and despair squeezed his heart, but he forced himself to continue. **Tell Cutter whatever you have to. Remember me. Howl for me. But don’t let him come down here again.**

**Skywise…!**

**I mean it, cub!** Skywise almost shared what he’d been through, almost let Scouter feel the full impact of his pain and humiliation, but pulled back. But instead he used his anger at Scouter’s resistance to drive the urgency of the words home. **Protect our chief from himself.**

Silence, with nothing to count it by but his own frantic heartbeat and the peaceful breathing of Guttlecraw in his fur-draped bed.

**High Ones keep you, Skywise.** Scouter sent at last. Skywise could feel his friend’s own simmering anger, but also fresh resolve. **I promise, we’ll howl for you.**

Skywise’s heart broke as Scouter withdrew, but with that loss of hope came relief so strong that he sagged in his bonds. Once Scouter made his escape, Guttlecraw had no hold over him. All they could do was push until they killed him. 

Tears of relief burned Skywise’s eyes and rolled silently down his cheeks. If it let him escape the unrelenting helplessness and fear of this place, if it kept him from being a tool to be used against other elves, death would be a welcome escape.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Prompt: Skywise is captured by trolls. Likes: character suffering, dark ending, bondage, troll culture. Dislikes: Major character death._
> 
>  
> 
> Pretty sure I pounced on this prompt because the Pinis doubling down on their benevolent slavery shtick with the High Ones pissed me off just that much. This is an ugly piece of work, so please mind the tags and proceed with caution.

The shuddering impact of wood against stone echoed through Guttlecraw’s chambers as the guards threw open the doors without requesting entry. Skywise flinched, but he was not surprised. He’d been expecting this since Scouter had told him of his escape plan, now and day and a night past. And it seemed that the guards had just realized that two of their prisoners had gone missing.

Guttlecraw rose from his bed, spiked scepter in hand, ready to defend against attack until the guards explained themselves. Skywise forced himself to keep breathing. Every instinct told him to freeze completely, to hide and let not even the stir of his breath give him away. But there was nowhere to conceal himself in his little cage. It would all be over soon, anyway. With Scouter gone, Guttlecraw had no more hold over him. If they were both lucky, Scouter would escape, and Skywise could provoke the troll king into killing him quickly. If not, Scouter would be recaptured, and probably take Skywise’s place in the cage. Either way, it was now out of his hands, and he could only hope the High Ones were watching over Scouter.

The door to Skywise’s cage banged open. Guttlecraw’s iron grip clamped down on Skywise’s throat; he was dragged out into the open, struggling and choking. Rage burned in the troll king’s eyes, but his voice was eerily calm.

“Well. It seems the scum you begged mercy for has abandoned you, Wolfrider.”

Skywise’s pulse hammered against Guttlecraw’s choking grip. He wanted Guttlecraw to lose himself to anger, to kill him in his rage. Guttlecraw in a calm and calculating mood only meant his abuse would be drawn out all the longer for the troll’s pleasure.

“You can’t make me tell you anything now,” Skywise gasped, hoping to provoke Guttlecraw into lashing out.

“Yes, I do think the time for questions has passed.” Guttlecraw threw Skywise against the bars of the cage with enough force to leave his head spinning. “Tie him there. And tell Iolit to bring her needles and charms.”

Two guards spread Skywise’s legs and arms, then began tying him to the cage by his wrists and ankles. He resisted them now - snarling, kicking, and sinking his teeth into troll flesh as he finally let the wolf loose. His defiance earned him curses and an open-handed strike across the face, but at least there was the satisfaction of having tasted troll blood. It was small revenge for the torment of the Go-Backs and his own debasement, but it was something.

Within minutes, a troll woman was escorted into the king’s quarters, a bundle of rolled leather tucked beneath one arm. Her coarse, dark hair was tied back in a messy tail. Her dress was of simple weave, but rings of gold and silver studded her lips, the ridges and lobes of her ears, and her nose, gleaming coldly against her green skin. She knelt before Guttlecraw, her gaze on the floor until he bade her rise.

“Iolit,” said Guttlecraw, “this elf needs decoration befitting his station.”

Iolit smiled as she beheld Skywise, spread eagle and exposed.

“You have set me a challenge, sire. This will be delicate work. But a pleasure.” She unrolled her bundle, displaying a host ear bangles, rings, and shining needles in all sizes. She eyed Skywise again, then her tools. “Silver for the slave, my king?”

Guttlecraw smiled in anticipation. “Cold steel. As befits the spoil of war.”

The troll woman nodded. “Above and below?”

“Above. Work your way up until I say stop.”

Iolit chuckled. “Aye, my king.” She plucked a clamp and long, silver needle from her kit. 

Skywise struggled against his bonds; he didn’t know what was coming, but he knew it would be more torment, and he had no intention of making it easy.

Iolit gestured to the guards. “Get hold of his small bits. These scrawny creatures don’t leave much room for error. He jerks at the wrong time and the needle’ll go right through him.”

The shorter of the guards barked a laugh and closed his rough, calloused hand around Skywise’s cock and balls. Skywise froze. The invasive touch made his skin crawl, made him want to pull away, but even with all he’d suffered, even with the new torment before him, that particular threat was enough to still his struggles.

Iolit grunted satisfaction. She went to work with haste, but as relaxed and precise as an experienced hunter butchering a kill. She pinched the clamp down on Skywise’s nipple, drawing a yelp of surprise that built to a terrified, high-pitched whine as she pulled the flat bud of flesh taut and speared it through with hardly a moment’s pause. 

Skywise cried out sharply, though the needle was through and out in a heartbeat. Iolit threaded a metal clasp through the bleeding hole a moment later, then stepped back and let the thick steel hoop attached to it dangle from Skywise’s lanced flesh. 

“There’s one.” The troll caressed her handiwork, drawing a pained hiss of breath from Skywise. “And we’re not nearly done.”

“Work quickly,” Guttlecraw said. His dark eyes were smoldering, his teeth bared in a familiar grin that turned Skywise’s guts to water. A hungry smile that raised fresh memories of the horrific banquet, the Go-Back being tortured to death, the troll king’s bed…

The dull bite of the clamp and the piercing fire of the needle impaling his opposite nipple brought Skywise out of his panicked thoughts. He tried to pull away, only to be checked by the grip on his privates tightening until he stilled, choking on the agonized moan deep in his throat.

Words fled him then, for there was nothing he could say to stop his own mutilation. Iolit’s silver needles climbed higher, studding his ears with holes for more rings, one after the other, until the delicate flesh was so tender that he whined and yelped for mercy like a runty pup being savaged by its littermates. She released him at last, but his first sobbing breath of relief was cut short as she grasped his nose and pulled upward. Confusion kept him still an instant too long; he saw the flash of silver headed toward his face, then the terrible pain as flesh gave way to steel. He howled and pulled away, but it was too late; another steel ring dangled from his pierced septum. He shook his head trying to dislodge it and howled again in pain and helpless despair.

Guttlecraw nodded his approval as Iolit stepped away. “Very good.” He nodded to the guards, who released him. “We’ll let the elf get used to his pretties for a bit, then show him new games.” 

Iolit gathered her tools, and then all - king, guards, and tormentor - left him to his bonds and humiliation.

Skywise’s senses were filled with his own blood: the scent of it in his nose, the metal and salt spilling over his lips, trickling down his neck and chest, the rapid beat of his own heart. With every breath, he could feel the troll-metal tugging against his flesh, brushing against it, as if the touch of Guttlecraw and his guards lingered after their departure. He itched to tear every bit of the invasive metal loose, to wear scars instead of any troll binding. But he had no strength left to even try and escape the ropes binding him to the cage bars. All he could do was hang there, whimpering to himself at the sensation of his body becoming less and less his own and ever more another piece of property subject to the troll king’s whims.

* * *

Guttlecraw returned alone. No guards trailed in his wake. No attendants leaped to do his bidding. Even the heavy wooden scepter, as much a weapon as a symbol of the troll king’s rule, was absent from his hands. 

Skywise didn’t struggle as Guttlecraw approached, but couldn’t help flinching as the troll cupped his chin and forced him to look up.

“You’re beginning to understand,” Guttlecraw said, a low chuckle weaving underscoring the words. “There is no escape and no release unless I will it so. You could stop eating, stop drinking, and I would still have ways to keep you alive for years beyond your reckoning.”

Skywise bared his teeth, though the defiance felt weak in the face of that bleak, terrifying truth.  
“You’d be wasting food. I told you, you’ll get no more answers from me.”

“But I would get the pleasure of your misery.” Guttlecraw twisted the ring piercing Skywise’s nipple, turning it two and fro as if trying to decide if it was worth bartering for. “And of seeing each day what your kind has been reduced to. That’s worth a few scraps of Go-Back flesh here and there.”

“You’re like humans!” Skywise growled the words through his pain. “You’re scared of us! That’s why you’re so cruel when there’s no need! It’s why you boast when you kill and capture us. It makes you feel safer!”

The troll yanked Skywise’s head back, wrenching his neck, but he continued to glare, breathing coming in rough gusts through his mutilated nose.

“You’ve forgotten your own history, elf.” Impossibly, Guttlecraw was smiling. “But ignorance is not innocence. We keep you pink-skins in bondage because, given the chance, you’d do the same to us. Just as your precious High Ones did.”

Skywise blinked his surprise. “That’s - that’s a lie! They never…!”

Guttlecraw released his hold and casually backhanded Skywise for the insult, leaving his head ringing. “Listen and learn something, elf. Every troll knows what your people were too eager to forget. 

“Your ‘High Ones’,” he began, “shaped the Palace from the bones of their dying homeworld. They had great magic, then, enough to escape the pull of the world and explore endless sea of stars beyond. And when they fled to the stars, they took with them two of the last surviving creatures of that world: the burrowers that were our ancestors and the bugs that became Preservers.

“The Palace changed us. We became intelligent, and aware of our place within the closed world of the elves.” Guttlecraw sneered. “The Palace was the stone of our world as much as theirs, and we could work it as well at they could. We kept their damned ship in perfect order. And yet, we had no say over where it flew or where it rested. The elves, they took no notice of us unless it was to rebuke or deny. They would not see how we had ascended; we were nothing more to them than the beasts they had brought aboard. Less than that. We were no longer amusing pets, but an annoyance to them, tolerated only for our usefulness. 

“How many endless ages this went on, none of us know. But there was one among us, Tanar, who took our grievances to the elves again and again. Finally, they locked him away where they would not have to see his discontent or hear our pleas. 

“The passage of time never meant much to your kind. By the time they gave in to our begging and freed Tanar, he’d gone mad from confinement and isolation. He took his own life; his bones are still hidden somewhere in depths of the Palace. The elves, oh, they pretended to mourn, but would confess to no wrongdoing. And that was the last insult the trolls would bear.

“We bided our time. Waited until the elves found a suitable world to land on. One where they would be looked upon as higher, magical beings so that they would deceive the lowly creatures of that world into trusting them. And when they were occupied with landing the ship, we struck.”

Skywise’s mind was in fresh turmoil. What he was being told was too fantastic, too cruel to be true. And yet, there was nothing in Guttlecraw’s anger to suggest anything but truth. “The trolls… you caused the fall of the High Ones?” he whispered.

“We brought this ship crashing to a primitive world. There was no soft welcome waiting for your people there.” He twisted the piercing again, baring his teeth in a smile as Skywise’s breath caught. “The world that rejected you embraced us. We grew strong, built empires among the bones of the earth. And you… your kind became a small and debased remant, rutting with beasts just to cling to a life at the very fringes of the world.” The smile widened. “Fitting.”

“You lie,” Skywise repeated, wishing he had the strength for the certainty of defiance. But his voice came out weak and confused.

“Do I, elf? Let me show you your precious Palace, then. And we’ll see how much good it does you.”

* * *

Guttlecraw Skywise bundled into the white wolfskin that had been hanging from his throne since the last battle of the war, wapping it around his body and tying his arms down to his side. The fur had been barely fleshed, and smelled of rotting blood and fat going rancid. The troll guards brought forth a throne mounted on a on a litter of bone-pale wood for the king. Guttlecraw had Skywise handed up once he settled in, then draped the elf over his lap like a fur blanket, one hand resting on his neck in a warning against struggling. At a grunted order, the guards began moving forward, heading through the heavy portculus at the back of Guttlecraw’s throne room and into the tunnels leading to the surface.

Skywise was given little time to consider the path of their journey. Guttlecraw shoved his free hand under the fur, pinching and twisting Skywise’s flesh, tugging at his fresh, raw piercings. When the elf squirmed in vain to evade the painful fingers, the hand around his neck tightened until his eyes bulged and he whined for air. It amused the trolls and left Skywise limp, with greying vision as the journey drew near its end.

The first bright bars of sunlight filtering into the tunnels cut through Skywise’s clouding vision and made him squint; his time imprisoned beneath the ground had left him nearly as day-blind as the trolls. His eyes watered as a frozen wind whipped down from the mountains, gleaming with ice under a cloudless sky. He couldn’t help cringing away from the brightness; it seemed he had been locked away from the sun and sky for a lifetime. 

Sunlight shone also on a half-erected metal dome, gleaming panels of steel that reached toward the sky, only just failing to encircle the turrets of peaked stone reaching toward the clouds. The Palace of the High Ones. The home of his ancestors, but instead of the welcoming haven he’d envisioned, it was only dull grey rock hemmed in by troll metal.

But, even so, Skywise could feel the pull of the Palace clearly now. Even through the throbbing aches and sharp pain of his tormented body, the ancient home of the elves called to him, granted him fresh hope. A wild idea for escape surfaced as Guttlecraw’s guards began prying a panel loose to grant the king and his prisoner entry. His legs weren’t bound. If the troll king were distracted for just an instant…

The panel fell to the snow with a muffled thump. Guttlecraw rose to his feet, dragging Skywise along to shove him from the litter into the snow. Skywise landed on his feet, but his legs couldn’t hold up under the impact. He crumpled to the snow, the hope of escape dashed once more. Already, he was too weak to run. 

Guttlecraw pulled him up again and pushed him ahead.

“Don’t fall asleep on me now, elf. We’re almost there!” 

Skywise stumbled forward, but he barely heard Guttlecraw or the rough laughter of the guards. His head was filled with something else. The inefable call of the Palace promised to fill an ache he’d never known before the Wolfriders came to the Frozen Mountains. The gentle pull he’d felt while living with the Go-Backs was now an irresistible force, pulling him forward on weary legs.

The trolls laughed as they ushered him through the portal. At first glance, there was little of the Palace to make the eyes wonder. It was all grey, bare stone and snow to the naked eye…

“Marvel at the wondrous work of the elves!” Guttlecraw sneered. “Whatever power this place possessed faded long ago. And forever will it stay that way.”

...but Skywise felt something filling him, wearing away the pain and humiliation of days past. A peace upon his soul. A belonging. The spirits of other elves were bound here in peaceful rest, every elf, back to the first days of the High Ones. He was not abandoned to the trolls; if he could but reach out with his mind, he might even speak with them, beg for their help or comfort…

Guttlecraw’s nails dug into his scalp as the troll grabbed a handful of his hair and lifted him from his feet. Skywise cried out as the troll pushed him up against an icy pillar of stone, crushing the breath from him.

“Everything that belonged to the elves is ours now. Spire and stone…” 

He pinned Skywise between his bulk and the pillar, freeing his hands to wrench the elf’s legs wide apart.

“...flesh and bone.”

“No…!” Skywise choked out the word as he tried to push away, but his bound hands did nothing against the troll’s weight. He’d expected he might die at Guttlecraw’s hands, that it would be a painful and debased death. But not this. Not this defilement. Not here!

“No!” 

The trolls laughed. Laughed as Guttlecraw lifted his robe and shoved spit-covered fingers, cold and just barely wet, shoved into Skywise’s shivering body and twisted. Guttlecraw’s claws ripped a ragged howl of agony from Skywise’s battered throat. Blood came with the troll’s withdrawal, hot and thick and enough to ease his passage as he shoved his massive erection into the tight, hot sheath of the elf’s ass. 

Skywise choked, the shock and pain so great that he couldn’t move, couldn’t draw breath to scream again. The pressure of that huge maleness invading him was too much comprehend, and then the troll king thrust again, forcing himself in to the hilt. Skywise screamed again, this one thready and weak for want of air. His legs trembled uncontrollably as Guttlecraw thrust into him again, forcing helpless, breathless screams as each thrust tore him, made the next violation slicker and more torturous. 

**NO!** Skywise didn’t know who he sent to; he was beyond caring. Beyond thinking. His entire world was pain and the knowledge of his own flesh ripping with every pump of the laughing troll king’s hips. **HIGH ONES, HELP ME!**

Light flooded the world.

The laughter stopped, and Skywise fell. The ground where he landed was no longer like ice, but he was still cold, trembling as his life bled out of him.

**Hold on, Fahr! I’m coming!**

The sound of his soul name roused him, even as the world began to fade into darkness. Cutter. How was Cutter here? Skywise tried to push past the limits of his ruined body, but all he managed was to roll onto his side. The trolls were in chaos, running, stumbling. Light, everywhere. No longer was the Palace cold, dead and grey, but formed of gleaming stone that pulsed with a light - a life! - of its own.

Weapons were being drawn, but he’d been forgotten. Gentle, firm hands trembled as they grasped his cold, weak ones, and then warmth flooded him, soothing his hurts and stopping the spill of blood.

And he realized what had happened.

**NO!** He stared in terror at the gentle face and determined green eyes starting down at him. Healer. Cutter’s mate. Leetah, who he’d suffered so much to protect. **You can’t be here! Run! Get out now, before they take you!**

**We won’t go without you! On your feet, Stargazer! We must run back to the tunnels.** She pulled him up on unsteady legs. **Hurry, while Cutter makes use of the time you brought us!**

But it was too late. Skilled though Cutter was, the trolls rallied. He could not take on six guards at once; four of the trolls had him on the ground, pinned and bloody. And already the other two guards were turning, aiming their spears at Skywise and Leetah. 

In that moment, Skywise hated his dearest friends more than he ever could have the trolls. After all he’d sacrificed, they’d gone against his wishes and attempted a doomed rescue. Now they were all going to die here, and the healing, his pain, and the deaths of all the Go-Backs had been for nothing. 

**I should have let them kill me earlier.** The trolls closed in. Skywise shut his eyes and waited the death blow. **I’m sorry.**

“Hold!” Guttlecraw’s words halted the trolls in their tracks. “Don’t touch them.” The troll king hardly looked to the elves. His eyes were on the Palace. On the gentle throb of power all around them.

“We’ll take them back below. Make sure the wolf-chief isn’t injured too badly.”

Skywise went numb with the sudden weight of dispair. He couldn’t even hope for the release of death now. As much as he hated them in this moment, he couldn’t abandon Cutter and Leetah any more than he could have Scouter. He scarcely registered Cutter’s defiant snarls or how Leetah pressed closer, standing protectively at his shoulder. 

“Their pain is the key to unlocking control of this place,” Guttlecraw cackled. “Hurry, all of you. Get them below and call the slaves up here with picks and hammers. We’ll go hunting for more elves later, but first… let us see if crystal shatters more easily than stone.”

Leetah struggled as the trolls lifted her off her feet, but Skywise didn’t bother to resist. His friends would learn that defiance mattered for nothing. They, like the Palace, belonged to the trolls now.


End file.
